But though his eyes looked blandly into mine, I couldn’t
tell whether this was news to Li Ho or not....

Well, that’s the story. I’ve written
it down while it’s fresh, sparing comment.
Desire sang as we crossed the Inlet; little, low snatches
of song with a hint of freedom in them. She had
made her choice and it is never her way to look back.
The old “Tillicum” rattled and chugged
and the damp crept in around our feet. But the
water was a path of gold and the sky a bowl of silver—­and
as an example of present day elopements it had certainly
been fairly exciting.

Yours, Benis.

CHAPTER XIII

Desire Spence bent earnestly over the writing pad
which lay open upon her knee.

“Mrs. Benis Hamilton Spence,” she wrote.
And then:

“Mrs. B. Hamilton Spence.”

And then:

“Mrs. Benis H. Spence.”

Over this last she sucked her pencil thoughtfully.

“One more!” prompted her husband encouragingly.
“Don’t decide before you inspect our full
line of goods.”

“Initials, only, lack character,” objected
Desire. “There is nothing distinctive about
‘Mrs. B. H. Spence’. It doesn’t
balance well, either. I think I’ll decide
upon the ‘Benis H.’ I like it—­although
I have never heard of ‘Benis’ as a name
before.”

“You are not supposed to have heard of it,”
explained its owner complacently. “It is
a very exclusive name, a family name. My mother’s
paternal grandmother was a Benis.”

Desire was not attending. “Your nickname,
too, is odd,” she mused. “How on
earth could anyone make ‘Beans’ out of
‘Benis Hamilton?’”

“Very easily—­but how did you know
that anyone had?”

“Oh, from a touching inscription on one of your
books, ’To Beans—­ from Bones.’”

“Well—­there’s a whole history
in that. It happened by a well defined process
of evolution. When I went to school I had to have
a name. A school boy’s proper name is no
good to him. Proper names are simply not done.
But the christening party found my combination rather
a handful. No one could do anything with Benis
and the obvious shortening of Hamilton was considered
too Biblical. ‘Ham’, however, suggested
‘Piggy’. This might have done had
there not already existed a ‘Piggy’ with
a prior right. ‘Piggy’ suggested
‘Pork’, but ‘Pork’ isn’t
a name. ‘Pork’ suggested ‘Beans’.
And once more behold the survival of the fittest.”

Desire laughed.

The professor listened to her laugh with a strained
expression which relaxed when no words followed it.

“I was afraid,” he admitted penitently,
“that you might want to know why ‘Pork’
is not as much a name as ’Beans’.”